At Long Last

There are a ton of absurdities currently taking place in our world. I’m sure you’re aware, I just want to drive the point the home.   

I think it’s obvious that the most pressing topic that needs addressing is, of course, Kayne West. Sure, I’ve heard of the unmarked vehicles in Portland hauling off tear-gassed pregnant women and other peaceful protestors, but Ye is the voice of the nation. Is anyone taking this clown seriously? Can someone please swoop him up in the middle of the night, hood over his head, and haul him off discreetly to some posh treatment center for the rich and imbalanced?  

They have this neat thing; it’s called a 51/50, wherein they hold you involuntarily for 72 hours because they think you might be a danger to yourself or others. They evaluate you and either let you go or treat your egocentric and hyperbolic ass with meds and therapy. I wouldn’t know anything about this process and have never spent any time in any psychiatric wards, for the record.  

Conspiracy theories are all around. I almost want to start buying into some of them just so that I feel like I fit in somewhere. There are so many, it’s hard to know where to start. It’s hard feeling like a misfit toy out here, no conspiracy to hang my hat on.  

I’m not sure I have the attention span for it. Different conspiracies keep popping up like ground rodents in your lawn. Every time I show up with a piece of celery to nurture the little critter, it’s gone below the surface again and I’m left looking like a dickhead until the next one pops up.  

I recently purchased a couple of books for leisure reading. I’ve been reading Dying of Whiteness and Black Friday. While both books are exceptional, I’ve been about as successful at completing either of them as I was at receiving the underage girl I was promised when I ordered my Daphne Table from Wayfair. Imagine my dismay when I opened the lift-top and found no malnourished young woman clinging to life inside. I’ll have to invest in the next conspiracy. Guess it’s Bill Gates and control of world for the win.  

My brain’s ‘Open for Business’ sign flickers on and off at a rate unparalleled. I imagine at some point the poor thing is just going to explode from over-activity. I’ve been idle on my blog site for months It’s not for lack of traffic collision type brain activity. I’m constantly untangling a mess of awesome shit in my head. I just never make my way to the computer to get any of it out. I’m always waiting for Amazon packages.  

I’m currently waiting for Amazon to deliver my Olympic Bar and weight plates. I guess we’re still running with the notion that some things are ‘essential’, and others aren’t. Who dictates this? I’d like to know who’s making the call that me turning my backyard into a redneck training gym isn’t what’s in my best interest right now. Seems I’m always waiting for the Amazon delivery person to deliver some shit. It’s the only glimmer of hope I’m allowed and even that’s regulated. I paid for Prime, you jackasses!  

Listen, I’m 40 years old, I’m never gonna be an American Gladiator or a Ninja Warrior, let me do squats and deadlifts in my fucking backyard in terrible form. It keeps me from Doom Scrolling social media looking for idiots to form resentments against then subtweet passive aggressively on Twitter.

I’ve already decided I don’t like cooking. That shit costs money, makes my house too hot, requires that I practice self-control, and often means I don’t get any of what I cooked anyhow. Half the time I”m not even sure I like my family enough to provide this service for them. Exercise is what ensures I will survive Bill Gates, Dr. Fauci, and the medical cabal during this global pandemic.  

If it all goes tits up maybe I can join ranks with the super elite. I don’t mind being pimped out, I’m an adult, I can make those choices for myself, unlike Tania. Tania came to our family in the pantry we purchased from Wayfair. She’s been a welcomed addition to our family. She gives great pedicures! I’m not sure what services she provides for my husband, but he’s never been happier. I’m not a child so it’d be hard for “them” to sell me, but I’m sure where there’s a will there’s a way.  

If any of the shit I’ve written has offended you or hurt your feelings, you probably either buy into the conspiracy theory shit or don’t know me very well. Either way, keep drinking your electric Kool-Aid and more power to you. We all need something to believe in. I choose to believe the cocksucker Amazon delivery person is gonna deliver my shit and I’m going to get fit as a motherfucker in my backyard. Either that or I’m gonna sit on my ass watching television like every other day eating cookies and chips and salsa, bitching about everything I see on social media from the comfort of my recliner while the workout equipment rusts in my backyard.  

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